Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)Kenny N Gamera
Moon
- Joined
- Sep 24, 2015
- Location
- Mountian States
Author's Notes
This is one of five flashes based on the Simon and
Garfunkle song The Boxer. I wrote the one, "Asking Only
Workman's Wages," for the Summer Solstice Rom Festival, but
thought better of it and didn't post it then. When the
Anniversary Song Fest was announced, I thought to post it
and complete the series with one flash for each stanza of
the song. They have no order and are not connected to each
other in any way. As with anything they vary in quality,
but each captures the mood of the verse. I hope you enjoy.
Laying Out My Winter Clothes
Posted alt.sex.stories.moderated 16 Nov 2002
Laying Out My Winter Clothes
An ASSTR Anniversary Song Story
by
Kenny N Gamera
I take the sweater from the box and lay across the my
bed. I look out the window at the gray sky, threatening
some sort of foulness, and ponder whether I should put it
on now or put it away with the others.
I go to the window and look out to the street below.
People in lonely groups hustle back and forth going
nowhere. Brown leaves from some trees down the street and
the discarded litter evidence the swirling path of the
breeze that catches at their coats.
I sigh. I let my thoughts wander to Leslie and what she
might be doing. I think of her long blonde hair and her
dark brown eyes. I sigh again.
I step away from the window and drop down on my bed,
just to the side of the sweater. I lower my hands. With
a tug, the zipper to my pants slides down. I am hard so my
right hand begins to slide up and down the length of my
penis, which my left hand gently holds steady.
From contact with my lower fist to the lip of the
helmet, I let my fist travel back and forth. In my mind, I
just talk with her about nothing really, just talk. She
pays attention to me as I pay attention to her in the
interplay of small talk.
As we go through imaginary conversations, my hand
speeds in its action. She laughs at what I say. I smile
at her insights. I feel myself tense, and my imaginary
self asks. I hold back for a moment before the imaginary
Leslie says yes. I feel the release.
I clean my hand with a tissue and walk to the calendar.
So many days away, I mark another to the coming semester
break.
This is one of five flashes based on the Simon and
Garfunkle song The Boxer. I wrote the one, "Asking Only
Workman's Wages," for the Summer Solstice Rom Festival, but
thought better of it and didn't post it then. When the
Anniversary Song Fest was announced, I thought to post it
and complete the series with one flash for each stanza of
the song. They have no order and are not connected to each
other in any way. As with anything they vary in quality,
but each captures the mood of the verse. I hope you enjoy.
Laying Out My Winter Clothes
Posted alt.sex.stories.moderated 16 Nov 2002
Laying Out My Winter Clothes
An ASSTR Anniversary Song Story
by
Kenny N Gamera
I take the sweater from the box and lay across the my
bed. I look out the window at the gray sky, threatening
some sort of foulness, and ponder whether I should put it
on now or put it away with the others.
I go to the window and look out to the street below.
People in lonely groups hustle back and forth going
nowhere. Brown leaves from some trees down the street and
the discarded litter evidence the swirling path of the
breeze that catches at their coats.
I sigh. I let my thoughts wander to Leslie and what she
might be doing. I think of her long blonde hair and her
dark brown eyes. I sigh again.
I step away from the window and drop down on my bed,
just to the side of the sweater. I lower my hands. With
a tug, the zipper to my pants slides down. I am hard so my
right hand begins to slide up and down the length of my
penis, which my left hand gently holds steady.
From contact with my lower fist to the lip of the
helmet, I let my fist travel back and forth. In my mind, I
just talk with her about nothing really, just talk. She
pays attention to me as I pay attention to her in the
interplay of small talk.
As we go through imaginary conversations, my hand
speeds in its action. She laughs at what I say. I smile
at her insights. I feel myself tense, and my imaginary
self asks. I hold back for a moment before the imaginary
Leslie says yes. I feel the release.
I clean my hand with a tissue and walk to the calendar.
So many days away, I mark another to the coming semester
break.